Heyyoo, sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up, I kind of changed some of my plan for the Games, so it took a while to straighten things out. This chapter is a little on the short side, more of a filler type thing before the final bit of action begins, we're really in the home stretch now!

Day Nine

The steady rise and fall of Alfred's chest beneath her head was what awoke Florence that morning. It was a comforting feeling, something so calm and so ordinary amongst all the chaos and confusion that had been their lives for the last few weeks. She pushed herself slowly into a sitting position, careful not to wake the sleeping male. Florence hadn't remembered falling asleep in that position, or falling asleep at all, but she was thankful that the other tributes had let them sleep whilst they packed up the camp.
The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on all of their minds, the way that had been played and tormented by the Capitol. What was worse than remembering the past was knowing that there was still so much more to come today, the end of the Labyrinth was nowhere in sight. Florence smiled and shook her head. Only yesterday afternoon Jordan had been remarking on how easy it all had been, no one thought that now.

"Ahh, Sleeping Beauty awakes." Alfred laughed, sitting up as Florence stretched out.

"Sorry!" Florence quickly brushed her hair through with her fingers, trying to make herself look the slightest bit more presentable. "I thought you were still asleep." She smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

"Nope. Just didn't want to wake you."

"Ready to go?" Alfred stood up, holding his hand out for Florence to take. Florence's leg was healing, and despite the limp she still had it was much easier to get around. For once, she was more excited about the prospect of finding their way out, rather than scared that she wouldn't be around to see the end.

"Thought we were going to have to leave you." Salome flashed the pair a smile as they approached the group packing up supplies. "Florence could sleep for the whole of Panem." Florence nudged the younger girl playfully, before beginning to roll up the sleeping bags still strewn across the floor.

Despite only spending one night there, their little camp was a mess. They had set up the sleeping bags in the pitch black, thanks to Jordan's fear box, and it had been too dark to tidy anything from the night before. Any hopes of leaving early were dashed quickly by the state of the floor.

By the time the small group eventually set off that morning, the midday sun was already high in the air, beating down upon them, making the trek across the sandy stretch much harder than it otherwise was. The mood as they walked along the seemingly never ending path was much duller than it had been in the previous days. For two full days the group had walked through this Capitol created prison, and every way they turned, there was just more nothing. No matter how hard they tried to keep their spirits up, nothing could distract them from the feeling of hopelessness that had fallen across them.
At least no one was arguing, Salome thought to herself, that was always a good sign. She had feared that the loss of Ezra would have torn the group apart. He had united them, kept the peace, but instead of being torn apart by grief and anger, they had somehow pulled together, depended and helped one another in a way Salome would never had thought possible. She didn't exactly see Sunday dinners and cocktail parties in their future, but it was nice, for now, to know that whatever she went through, there would be four other people by her side.

"If we make it out of this," Locke's voice broke through the silence, the last person any of them had expected to speak. Since the beginning of the Labyrinth, the man had retreated into himself, only speaking when there was a decision to be made, or to send the occasional sarcastic remark to Jordan. It was a nice surprise, especially for Salome, to hear his voice without it being raised, or with a snarky underpinning tone. "What is the first thing you're going to eat?"

Florence was the first to answer, practically screaming. She had thought about this almost every minute of the day, the thought of food one of the only things keeping her from giving up. "Bread."

"Florence, dear." Alfred placed his hand in her' as they walked. "Bread is one of the only things we've been able to eat here, I never want to see another slice again."

"No." She spoke sternly, almost too passionate about bread, if that is possible. "Real bread. Not the stale, cardboard shit the Capitol has given us. Warm, soft bread, with crunchy crusts and enough jam to fill a small ocean. Bread." Florence explained, conjuring the perfect picture in all of their minds.

"Should I be worried about you leaving me for a loaf of bread should we escape this?" Alfred asked her, lowering his voice.

Florence lent in, whispering into his ear. "Probably, yes."

"Cake." Salome breathed out. "Every type of cake that has ever existed. I want it. I want it all."

"I second that." Jordan pointed at Salome, nodding, recalling fond memories of the bakery in District Twelve that he had stolen from many times. It would be nice to finally taste cake without the guilt that came with it.

All eyes now turned to Locke, the only one to have not answered. "Roast potatoes." He breathed out, almost moaning at the thought of them, saliva forming at the corner of his mouth. Locke had always felt bad discussing food with the other tributes. Back at the Capitol they had all been so shocked and in awe of the almost endless food supply, but for Locke, it had almost been normality. He had never taken for granted what he had in his life, and now more than ever he was understanding just how blessed he was to have been given a life free from want, knowing exactly when his next meal would be, and that there would always have been food to share. Now, however, they were all in the same boat. No matter what District they had come from, or the lives they had lead, there was no getting away from the fact that all the remaining tributes were hungry, bored with the bland tasteless food they had foraged for, or the staleness of the views supplies left over, provided for them by the Capitol.

So engrossed in the thought of food and meals to come, the group almost missed the turning to their left, the turning that would change everything.

"Hey!" Salome held up her hand, motioning for the group to turn back. "There's something down here. A gate!" She exclaimed, walking down the path without waiting for the others to catch up.

"Please lead to Disneyworld, please lead to Disneyworld." Florence practically begged under her breath, trying to peer through the railings, to no success. They were covered by a thick layer of moss and leaves, almost as if they had been untouched for centuries. It made the girl wonder just how long the Capitol had been planning something like this. She felt sick to the stomach imagining exactly what was behind them. Knowing the surprises the Capitol had thrown at them before, she strongly doubted it would be the walk in the park the group hoped it would be.

"Do we open it?" Alfred asked, noticing how the tributes all stayed a few meters back, just staring at the things in front of them.

"Well, it's either that or continue traipsing through this hell hole." Of course Jordan was the one to answer, stepping forward and placing his hand on the latch before anyone could object. "So yeah, I say we open them."
Knowing the man was right, and not wanting to get into another fight, the other tributes agreed, placing their hands next to Jordan's.

What the group never expected to find, as they pushed open the large iron gates in front of them, was a sight that was all too familiar. The five stood, looking between the view in the distance and one another.

"This has got to be a trap, right?" Alfred spoke quietly, voicing the thoughts they were all having. "It couldn't have been that easy." He continued, shaking his head.

"You know what I've learnt, Alfred?" Jordan clamped his hand down on the taller boy's shoulder. "The Capitol works in mysterious ways."

Florence could feel tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Never did she think she would have such emotion to see the Cornucopia. In the past it had represented such fear and danger, but now, it provided the girl with hope, freedom, an ending.
She looked to the side and Jordan set off sprinting across the clearing, screaming in glee, Salome and Locke following close behind.

Alfred stopped, still not believing it was real. He turned slowly, wrapping his arms around Florence, picking her up and spinning her around. "We're going home, Florence, we're going home."
She buried her head in his shoulder, sobbing against him as the reality hit her. This was the end. She had survived, she would see her family again, introduce them to Alfred and have a life with him, a life that didn't involve killing or fighting or sleeping with one eye open.

"Come on." Florence gripped his hand tightly, the pain in her ankle completely forgotten as they raced towards the Cornucopia, Salome running back to meet them and embrace them. The five collapsed in a circle on the floor, all unable to keep the smiles from their faces.

"We're going home." Alfred repeated again, noticing how Salome's hand met Locke's.

Jordan couldn't help but miss out on the excitement that everyone else was so obviously feeling. He had no idea what home meant for him now. In the past, his life had been the streets, living meal to meal, not sure when he would eat net, or whether he would have a warm bed to spend the night in. When he returned to District Twelve now, things would be so different. He had no doubt the Capitol would provide him with a house, and enough money to last him a thousand lifetimes, all facts that should have made his heart sing. Instead, he just felt defeated, like everything in his old life had been snatched away and he was left to adjust to something he had never wanted, or asked for.

"Come on, Jordan." Salome slapped her hand across his back, clearly picking up on his disheartened feeling. "Give us a smile." The man obliged, offering her a weak smile, ruffling Salome's hair. "If it's not spending time with me you're worried about, I can assure you I am just as annoying in the outside world as I was in here." That earnt Salome a genuine smile, and some of the anxiety and fear Jordan was feeling was lifted.
He hated himself for being the one to bring the mood down, to constantly fear what should have been the most exciting day of their lives. They were being given the chance to be free of all of this, to live the lives that they had thought the Capitol had snatched away. Salome made him feel better, though, as he accepted that whatever awaited him outside the restrictions of the arena, he wouldn't have to face it alone. The old Jordan would have hated to admit that he needed people, but the Jordan shaped by the arena and the Games now knew that having someone in his corner wasn't a bad thing. People need people, and he had found his.

A comfortable silence fell over the group, as the reality sunk in. This was it. They had survived everything the Capitol had thrown at them, and they had done it together. Florence would never have admitted it, but at the start of their journey together, she was convinced they were going to kill each other. She smiled, remembering the tension that had consumed them all as they entered the Labyrinth, a million miles away from the relative friendship they had now.

After a few moments, Salome's voice broke through the silence. "When do you think we'll hear from the Capitol?" She asked, her eyes immediately drawn to the sky, as if the looming eyes of the Head Gamemaker would suddenly appear. She knew that were always watching, probably laughing at them this very second. The longer they heard nothing, the more worried Salome got, the unsettling look on Locke's face cementing that her doubt was not without cause.

"Soon." Jordan answered, waving her question away, as he laid back on his hands, stretching his legs out in front of him. "For now though…" He shot the group a cheeky smile, closing his eyes. "I'm going to get some sleep." Jordan paused to yawn. "And I suggest you all do the same."

For the first time, Alfred noticed just how dark it had gotten, they must have been walking through the Labyrinth longer than any of them had thought. He also noticed how tired he actually was, how much his legs hurt and the beginnings of a headache, nagging at the centre of his forehead. All the uncomfort and pain had been forgotten when they had made it out, senses completely dulled by the sudden relief. Now, as the novelty of being freed began to wear off, everything came creeping back. He too copied Jordan's pose, preparing to take a nap. "He's right." Alfred admitted, letting out a yawn of his own. "Whenever the Capitol decides to come collect us, I doubt there'll be any time for sleep."

Florence

She had chosen to take the first watch, or rather, everyone else had fallen asleep and she had been left to look after her sleeping friends. At first, Florence welcomed the sudden quiet, memories of hours spent alone in the fields of District Seven came rushing back. But soon, the thought of home became too much, and the girl stood up, walking small laps around the Cornucopia. The group had fallen asleep with the thought of rescue and home on their minds, talk of freedom on their lips, but as Florence considered how long they had been sitting here without word from the Capitol, doubt crept in. What would the institution gain from letting five victors go home? It would show they were weak, that they no longer had the power to create a divide between the Districts. Florence had no doubt that her District Seven would now be united with Two, Three and Twelve, the only others with surviving tributes, something the Capitol created the Games to prevent. After all these years of working to keep the District separate, why would they allow them to unite like this?
Florence knew that all the tributes must be having the same nagging doubts in the back of their minds, none of them brave enough to announce it, not wanting to dispel the illusion that they were all going home together. She paused briefly, leaning against the side of the Cornucopia, feeling more defeated than she ever had before, as if everything she had fought for had been useless, pointless.

"Why the long face, kid?" Florence knew the voice immediately, and the girl looked up, desperately searching for its source.

"Dad." She breathed out. It was yet another Capitol mind game, their favourite way to torture the tributes, apparently, but Florence couldn't escape just how real the voice was, and how much she longed for it to be her father. "I miss you so much." She breathed out, walking closer to the edge of the woods, where she heard the voice from.

When her dad spoke again, his voice was more shaky, desperate, and Florence's clear head faltered slightly. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that the voice wasn't real, nothing could distract her from the fear and panic in Charles Maugham's voice. "They have them, Flo. Nora and Clementine. The Capitol came two nights ago and just took them. We didn't even get to say goodbye." His voice broke as he explained, and for the first time, the girl realised that this wasn't some Capitol induced vision. This was real. This was her father, begging for her help. "You have to win, Florence, it's the only way to get them back."

Florence's breath hitched at the back of her throat at the thought of her nine year old sisters in the Capitol, alone, scared with no one. Suddenly everyone she had met in here meant nothing to her, for a second her feelings for Alfred disappeared, all she could feel was a drive to kill, blood pulsing in her ears as she paced closer to the forest, sprinting into the tree line.

When finally she stopped, her head was more scrambled than ever before. There was no way she could kill the people back at the Cornucopia, they were her friends, Alfred meaning as much to her as her own family did. But, whenever the girl closed her eyes, all she saw was the faces of her sister's controlled and owned by the Capitol, people only she had the power to save.
She sunk to her knees, leaves and twigs clawing at her legs, a mixture of sobs and screams escaping her, noises completely lost to the silence of the forest. Slowly, it turned into laughter, manic as tears still streamed down her face. How stupid she had been, how stupid they all had been, to ever think they were getting out of this alive. They were the Capitol's pawns, their favourite toys, and there was no way the powers above would let them rest until all the tributes were well and truly broken, broken beyond repair.